The Little Paris Patisserie

by Julie Caplin

  ‘Excellent.’ He looked at his watch. ‘We can spend the next ten minutes running through what I need you to do to prep for next week and then I need to get back.’

  Chapter 20

  The week had raced by and Nina had spent nearly every day perfecting her éclairs. She was still brooding about what Sebastian had said about her never needing to stick at anything. As fast as she made them, Marcel sold them, which was just as well as they’d be overrun with the things otherwise. What had Marguerite said? Practice made perfect.

  They’d just completed the fourth lesson, which had focused on fillings and how to add and use different flavourings. It was a lovely sunny day and no one was particularly upset when Sebastian had asked if anyone minded if they wrapped up early. He needed to meet with his architect. Apparently, there was a problem with a wayward chimney flue.

  ‘I’m quite glad,’ said Marguerite, taking a seat and trying to squish herself backwards into the only bit of shade outside the front of the patisserie. ‘It was a little hot in the kitchen this afternoon.’

  ‘I’m very glad,’ said Maddie, ‘I can’t get the hang of whipping the cream, I’m always scared I’ll miss the point of no return.’

  Nina was glad because each time Sebastian came to the patisserie was another chance for him to discover that she was selling her éclairs and that they were starting to get customers. She wasn’t sure he’d be too pleased about that.

  Marcel came out to take their orders, although he now knew everyone’s preferences.

  ‘I don’t suppose you have a parasol for the table, do you?’ asked Nina conscious that Marguerite was looking a little uncomfortable.

  Marcel glanced at the older lady with a quick frown. ‘There used to be some.’

  Maddie jumped to her feet, her eyes gleaming. ‘We haven’t checked out those other storerooms.’

  Nina drooped. ‘Really, it’s such a hot day.’

  ‘Come on.’

  ‘Mind if I come?’ asked Bill. ‘I wouldn’t mind a look around. Renovating the house I’m working on, makes you realise how different French buildings are to ours. I’d like to see if there are any original features or fittings.’

  Upstairs, the three of them split up, each taking a different room. Nina took the second door off the corridor and ground to an immediate halt as soon as she’d stepped over the threshold. The floor space was filled with black plastic-wrapped piles. Intrigued, she unwrapped one of them to find a pristine white damask table cloth along with a set of matching stiff – as if they’d been starched – napkins. As she reached out to check the next pile, she heard Maddie yelling her name.

  ‘Nina! Nina! You’ve got to come and see this.’

  Hurrying next door, she found Maddie and Bill grinning and pointing to the floor.

  ‘Look what we found.’

  ‘Oh my goodness.’ Nina clapped her hand over her mouth as the three of them gazed down at the glass and crystal monster sprawled in front of them like a limp octopus. ‘That’s amazing. It must be the chandelier Marguerite’s been talking about.’

  ‘We’ve got to put it up,’ said Maddie, as usual cresting the wave of enthusiasm.

  ‘Needs a bit of a clean first,’ said Bill, rubbing his fingers over a large piece of crystal.

  Nina stared down at the chandelier and, even dirty, it glittered in the sunshine coming through the windows. ‘It’s…’ She crouched down next to it, her fingers drawn to trace the edges of the crystals. Even like this, stranded on the floor, dusty and grimy, it was magnificent.

  ‘I’m not even sure if we could get it up. Or how.’ But it was so beautiful she knew that they had to try.

  ‘What do you think, Bill?’ asked Maddie.

  ‘Well, it puts me in mind of that Only Fools and Horses scene. As long as we don’t drop it we’ll be fine. See there on the floor. Looks like it might be the original fixing. I reckon this room is right above where it would have been. Why don’t we get Peter up here?’

  There was a fair amount of head scratching and muttering and eventually Bill and Peter both agreed that getting the chandelier back up would take some doing but it wasn’t herculean. They decided that they needed to ponder the matter further and to do that they had to head to the nearest bar to discuss it over a litre or two of lager.

  Marguerite, who’d stayed downstairs with Jane, was very excited to hear about the discovery of the chandelier and Marcel was wandering around with a decided cat that had got the cream expression.

  ‘It’s going to need cleaning,’ said Nina repeating Bill’s comment, as she and Maddie sat back down at the table. Luckily the sun had moved and Marguerite had her own patch of shade, as in the excitement of discovering the chandelier, all thought of looking for a parasol had been forgotten.

  ‘I should love to see it back in place,’ said Marguerite. ‘And so would Marcel. It will bring back so many memories. I must tell my son … when I Skype him.’

  ‘You’re skyping your son as well as your grandchildren now?’ asked Jane.

  ‘Yes,’ said Marguerite. ‘The children told him they’d been speaking to me, so he called me.’ Her face flushed with pleasure. ‘I still think he’s an idiot … but he’s my son.’

  ‘So the Skyping is going well,’ asked Nina, delighted to see the happiness in the older woman’s face.

  ‘Oh yes, I talk to Emile and Agatha twice a week. I can’t thank you enough for putting me back in touch with my family. Even my son.’

  ‘That’s lovely,’ said Jane, a little wistfully. ‘We’ve deliberately taken Skype off our laptop. That’s why we came out here. To escape for a while.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Maddie, blunt as ever. ‘I can’t believe you two would ever upset anyone.’

  Jane’s gentle smile faded. ‘We never intended to.’ She gazed away towards the buildings on the other side of the street. ‘My husband died very suddenly … just over a year ago.’

  Marguerite lay a hand on Jane’s in a silent show of understanding.

  ‘Oh, that’s tough. You’re so young to be a widow,’ said Maddie.

  ‘It is but I was lucky. I met Peter, very soon after.’ She chewed her lip, her pretty eyes filling with tears. ‘We didn’t mean to hurt anyone … but well, it happened. We fell in love. Neither of our families are terribly happy about it. They think it’s too soon. Peter’s wife died a year before. They’ve all been so … difficult, that we decided to run away and get married and stay away for a while. Which is how we come to be in Paris.’ Her face brightened.

  ‘And only you know how you should feel,’ said Marguerite. ‘I had forty wonderful years with Henri and I still miss him. If I met someone who I would be as happy with, then I certainly would marry again.’

  ‘How do you explain to other people, when you know it is so completely right? That being with that person is like the last piece of the jigsaw slotting into place. It makes things feel finished. Complete. Whole.’ Jane broke off looking a little embarrassed. ‘And listen to me.’

  ‘We are,’ said Maddie. ‘And we’re dead jealous. I’m still waiting for my jigsaw piece.’

  Nina stared down at her feet. Was Sebastian really her jigsaw piece? And if he was, she was some kind of crazy masochist because he was always so grumpy. What was it inside her that was so convinced that he was the right person for her? Had she longed for him for so damned long that it had become a habit? Had it stopped her looking at other people?

  Fading out of the conversation, leaving the other two consoling Jane about her ‘difficult’ family, about which Maddie had bluntly said, ‘if you call them difficult, Jane, they must be a nightmare’, Nina pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Alex. He’d invited her out twice in the last few days and each time she’d said she’d been busy. Maybe it was time. Maybe she need to give herself a chance to get over Sebastian once and for all.

  Chapter 21

  There was a queue outside but Nina didn’t mind, the sun was shining and a palpable sense of excitement and anticipatio
n fizzed among the waiting people as if they were queueing for the theatre or a concert rather than for a very exclusive cake and cup of tea.

  ‘You know, I’ve never been here all the time I’ve been in Paris,’ observed Alex as they joined the queue.

  ‘I guess it’s more of a tourist thing,’ said Nina, gazing up at the sign above them. ‘And thanks for bringing me here. Marguerite, one of the ladies on the course, suggested it. She’s rather elegant, I can imagine her having afternoon tea here. I’ve been dying to come since she told me about it so thank you.’

  ‘No problem, it’s … not quite dinner or lunch. And I’m sorry it took so long to fix up. It’s been madder than usual at the hotel.’

  When Alex had asked Nina where she wanted to go, Ladurée was the first place she thought of.

  And she was glad she’d suggested it; with its delicate sage green and gold décor it was clearly the doyenne of the patisserie world and, judging by the queue, well worth a visit.

  ‘Do you mind if I pop next door and take some pictures?’

  ‘No, although I’m tempted to give into my Scottish stereotypical roots and suggest it would be cheaper to buy a couple of the cakes and take them away.’

  ‘And where would the fun in that be?’ asked Nina, with a laugh, skipping along to the shop next door, where a long glass cabinet displayed a rainbow selection of cakes and the distinctive puffs of macaron in pastel colours. By the time she’d taken her fill of pictures, Alex was at the front of the queue.

  When it was their turn to be seated they were led up a flight of stairs to a sedate salon full of quiet chatter and the delicate chink of china. At over six foot and dressed in jeans and a Star Wars T-shirt, Alex looked decidedly out of place, especially when perched on the seat behind the small rather delicate table.

  ‘Very grand,’ he said, looking around him before whispering, ‘and a bit girly.’

  Nina laughed. ‘Perfect for me then.’ What wasn’t there to like about the pale wood panelling that graced the walls and probably had done for at least a hundred years? And how could you resist thinking about all the faces that had caught sight of themselves over time in the speckled mirrors? Had grand ladies of old drunk tea and chatted over macarons, in silks and lace?’

  ‘Earth to Nina? Still with me?’ asked Alex.

  ‘Sorry, this is just lovely. Everything.’ She looked up at the ceiling painted with a mural of a cloud puffed sky. As she admired the gorgeous décor she remembered what Marguerite had said about Patisserie C. It would be interesting to know if the hideous MDF panels hid former glories.

  ‘And you haven’t even had a pastry yet?’ teased Alex.

  Nina picked up the menu the waiter had just delivered. ‘Ooh! Where do I start? I think I might drool. Do you think they might throw me out?’

  ‘Not if you can afford these prices. Ten euros for a cake? Even we don’t charge that in the hotel.’

  ‘Yes but are they as good as this? And it’s a one-time-only treat.’

  Alex put his menu down laughing at her. ‘It’s good to go out with a girl who likes her food and isn’t afraid to show it. I went out with a girl a few months back and when I took her out to dinner, she insisted on asking the waiter how many calories were in each dish before she would choose anything.’

  ‘Oh, I’m a complete pig, don’t you worry. But seriously, how am I going to choose? I want everything.’

  There were the Claire Heitzler’s Creations – Fleur Noire and blackcurrant blueberry cheesecake – which sounded divine, or one of the Ladurée Classics – pistachio religieuse, Saint-Honoré, plaisir sucré or vanilla mille-feuille – which were bound to be exquisite.

  ‘Go and take a look.’ Alex pointed to a marble slab over to her right where she realised all the divine cakes listed on the menu were displayed.

  Unfortunately, when she went to take a closer look, it didn’t help.

  ‘I want to try all of them,’ she complained to Alex who was standing at her elbow.

  Each one of them looked like a mini work of art.

  ‘How many do you reckon you could eat, before you were sick?’ he asked, tilting his head as if seriously considering the question.

  Shaking her head, Nina sniggered and nudged him with her elbow. ‘You are just like my brother, Toby. He would ask that sort of thing.’

  When the waiter arrived to take their order, Alex replied quickly and she was amused to see he picked the biggest cake on display. She still hadn’t made up her mind. ‘What would you recommend?’

  ‘Everything.’ The waiter’s stern professional face relaxed into a quick smile. ‘It is all good.’

  ‘That’s no help,’ she said, with a disgruntled smile up at him. She took another look at the menu and this time homed in on something that had intrigued her. What was an ordinary cheesecake doing on a menu like this?

  With her choice made, she sat back and relaxed.

  ‘So how are you finding Paris?’ asked Alex.

  ‘I … I love it, although…’ She looked around, and lowered her voice. ‘Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve not seen that much of it.’ She’d spent all her time in the kitchen now that the éclairs were selling so well.

  ‘Sebastian being a slave driver, is he? Want me to sort him out?’

  ‘No, I hardly hear from him. I just … you know, it’s easier to keep putting things off, rather than doing stuff on your own. Although I’ve met a couple of people from the course and I’m going to do a couple of museums and things with Maddie.’

  ‘You should have said, I’d have…’ He pulled a face.

  Nina let out a laugh. ‘No, you wouldn’t. You don’t strike me as a museums and gallery type of guy.’

  ‘True. I’d prefer to be outside. Doing stuff. Paris is good to walk around. It’s quite compact. You can see a lot in a short space of time.’

  They were interrupted by the return of the waiter who, with a slightly officious air, unloaded his tray on the table, handing out each item with solemn precision as if his life depended on the exact placing of the silver teapot and milk jug in the centre of the table. It all looked absolutely gorgeous, especially Alex’s choice with its matt chocolate topping and the Ladurée logo in gold and cream placed with symmetrical precision on top but when the waiter presented her, almost reverentially, with the tiny delicate cheesecake, she’d knew she’d made the best choice.

  She reached out to touch the gold gilt trim around the china plate. Lovely as it was, with the pastel blue stripe and the coordinating cup and saucer, this time with a pastel pink stripe, she couldn’t help thinking that the china at home – she smiled, she meant in the patisserie – was prettier.

  Across the table from her, Alex had picked up his fork and was holding it in the air as if waiting for starter’s orders. No reverential appreciation from him, he was clearly itching to tuck in but had the good manners to wait for her.

  ‘Are you going to eat that? Or just keep staring at it?’ asked Alex after a couple of seconds.

  Nina tilted her head. ‘It looks too good to eat.’ She took a sip of the delicately scented jasmine and orange tea, she’d selected, hiding a smile.

  Looking pained, Alex put down his fork.

  Nina laughed.

  ‘Gotcha!’

  ‘That’s just mean.’

  ‘Sorry, I couldn’t resist. I’m the youngest of four, I learned to take every advantage to mess with my brothers.’

  She tucked in and let out a groan of ecstasy. With its beehive of piped creamy cheese atop a deliciously rich buttery biscuit crumb base and the secret pocket of blackcurrant and blueberry, which just had to be one of the yummiest combinations ever, the cheesecake was a culinary triumph.

  ‘Want to try some of mine?’ asked Alex.

  She looked greedily at the chocolate confection and manners went out the window – she was dying to try it.

  ‘Are you sure?’ she asked but he was already offering her a forkful.

  ‘My, that’s lovely.’ She licked her li
ps as she savoured the richness of the chocolate ganache, the delicate nutty texture of the hazelnut meringue base and the smooth Chantilly cream, marvelling at the flavours and the perfect shape. How on earth did they do that? Someone had a very sharp knife.

  ‘Would you like to try mine?’ she asked, giving the tiny cheesecake a plaintive look.

  He laughed. ‘I don’t think I dare. And this is pretty good, although, I could eat another three.’ He’d polished his off pretty quickly and was now staring down at his empty plate rather glumly.

  ‘Me too. Well, not three, but I’d love to try another. Do you think that’s terribly greedy?’

  ‘No,’ said Alex with a grin. ‘Terribly normal.’

  ‘This place is lovely, it makes Patisserie C look a bit sad.’

  ‘That the place Sebastian has bought?’

  ‘Yes. Apparently in its heyday it was quite something.’

  ‘You know Sebastian didn’t want the site in the first place. If he could offload it, he would.’

  Nina frowned. ‘I thought he wanted to turn it into a restaurant.’

  ‘Only because he got landed with it. When he secured the other two sites, this one came as part of the deal. He’s been desperate for the units at Canal Saint-Martin and the Marais – that’s where the first two restaurants will open – so he couldn’t turn it down. The plans are looking great. Have you seen them yet?’

  ‘Very briefly.’ Nina nodded, distracted by the news that Sebastian had obtained the patisserie by default. She gave the sumptuous décor around her a second thoughtful study.

  The waiter came back and asked if they’d like anything else. Nina caught Alex’s eye.

  ‘We’d like to see the menu again,’ said Alex and, as soon as the waiter scurried off, he added, ‘I’m still peckish.’

  Nina laughed. ‘And I’m dying to try something else. I’m so glad you are here, I probably wouldn’t have dared on my own.’